


Broken Arrows

by ElvenSorceress



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Study, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, This is the only Natasha I will accept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenSorceress/pseuds/ElvenSorceress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha contemplates the way she grew up and, with the fall of SHIELD and revelation of all her secrets, she wonders where her partner's loyalties lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Arrows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shellybelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellybelle/gifts).



> Dedicated to my dear shellybelle. <3

She was taught not to love so long ago she doubts she's even capable anymore. It is a fallacy, an extravagance that leads to weakness, and nothing has ever tempted her to indulge or dream even a little. 

She cares too much sometimes but knows how to use it to her advantage. She knows how to ignore and suppress. 

But sometimes she wonders what she could have been. 

She remembers loving to dance. She remembers music and practice and how she adored elegant, graceful ballerinas. They weren't flimsy and fragile like they seemed. They were immensely strong. Rigid and disciplined, and of course she became that. It was exactly what she wanted. And yet, she misses the beauty and softness sometimes. 

She wishes she could have grown up gently. 

She never had the chance to dream about proms and gowns and perfect colleges. She never had crushes or boyfriends or girlfriends. The only career option she had was the one she ended up in long before she had a chance to be a child. 

In some ways, she makes up for it. She devoured _Harry Potter_ and all the _Lord of the Rings_ movies in between assignments. Cold, too-grown-up Katniss nearly brought her to tears. Sherlock, in a frightening way, reminded her quite a bit of Stark and she could never take him seriously. 

She learned to play and prolong the lighter moments given to her. She can joke and tease; she can offset seriousness even when her life depends on it. 

But the world is falling apart. She was supposed to be one of the good guys now. She was supposed to atone for all the blood spilt, all the lies, all the pain and havoc she personally brought down. Maybe this is her punishment. Maybe the world will become hell and the few good things she has will be ripped away. 

No one can be trusted. 

It shouldn't hurt like this. She should feel betrayed and outraged. Not wounded. Love is childish nonsense but trust is dangerous. She should never trust anyone. 

And yet she wants to. She so wants to. Being part of a team has kind of grown on her. It's not the worst thing in the world knowing someone is watching your back. 

The idea that he isn't on her side isn't something she ever wants to consider. But it's not impossible. She'd be completely foolish and probably dead a few hundred times over if she didn't at least take everything into account. 

She knows as soon as she finds him exactly where his loyalties lie. She can read him. She knows him. 

He smiles and lowers his weapons. He hugs her like there's still hope when everything is destroyed. As if the world isn't ending. There's no tragedy, no betrayal, no mighty powers crumbling down around them. 

It's not the first time she's kissed him nor the first time she's taken him to bed. He follows instinctively and holds her close, touching her the way he knows she likes, making her ache with delicious need. All she wants to do is keep him. 

She locks her arms and legs around him, moving with him and kissing him until it's his breath filling her lungs. He sobs her name, like he's falling apart as they finish, and she eases him down, stretching out on top of him and running her fingers through his soft, short hair. 

It's different with him than it is with anyone else. She used to think it was because of their shared history, their mutual understanding, and unspoken, ultimate partnership. Because it was more than once, more than ten times, and they'd forged a bond. 

Maybe it's because of all those things. He weaves his fingers through her hair and holds her like he never wants to let go.

Nothing else seems to matter now. Everything falls and dies eventually. It's inevitable. 

But he feels like dawn, like safety, like everything she's ever missed out on. She smiles and kisses him softly, something slow and sweet and dark that will burn through them both, and whispers, " _Ya tebya lyublyu._ ”

He tips his head, gazing up at her innocently as he points to bare ears that are missing his hearing aids. 

She doesn’t quite believe he doesn’t know what she’s confessing, but she brings her hand up, turns her palm towards him and bends her ring and middle fingers anyway. 

His grin and how he kisses her are enough to make it worth it.


End file.
